


Understand.

by Kittie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Calthazar, but it's def end game calthazar hella, this has a lot of one sided implication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittie/pseuds/Kittie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar wants Castiel to understand but how can someone that's never shown an inclination to feeling truly understand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understand.

Instant gratification was not something Balthazar fancied. Feeling took time and effort, to enjoy something was a near painful in the endeavor to acquire.

Feathered touches caused arches; just to feel more, to take and take— the angel had discovered sex as a selfish ruse to imply intimacy on the most physical and primal of levels.

But that was for humans.

For angels it was far more complicated.

Implications of what could be had been where heavy on his tongue far longer than Balthazar would care to admit after seeing Castiel once more. The desire to have his brother in arms had not lessened since he had faked his death, since they had been created, since he was nothing but a mere thought in the great expanse of his Father’s mind.

Instead they bloomed and flourished when he fell. The matter only worsened as Castiel had already fallen and there was nothing to tell either of them no. No divine rule. Nothing could truly tell either one of them to stop an advance sans one another.

They could be what they were and so much more.

But nothing was ever quite so simple.

His advances were ignored, the selfless giving of the only power he had left to the angel he wished to share the rest of his existence with had gone with nothing to replace its worth. He was still nothing in the eyes of whom he adored. He almost wondered if he was worth anymore more than those petty pieces of Heaven’s arsenal. They could not win the war for Castiel but they could certainly help.

But something  _had_  shifted, there were times Castiel looked ready to speak but could not find words. Balthazar only simply smiled in return. He could say nothing else to the fellow angel. Words would come, hopefully, before the inevitable that would follow all life. His Grace was diminishing an angel could only go so long without feeling the slow burn of their vessel. The slipped of their Grace. When wing beats became more troublesome than staying put.

And he was sure Castiel could feel it.

Perhaps that was what lead to the current moment. His angel in front of him with bright eyes that blinked at him with a piercing curiosity. Emotion swam in the depths as his Grace shimmered in his vessel’s iris. Balthazar hated to admit he could almost not feel his brother in arm’s Grace.

Everything that reminded him of home was fleeting far faster than the angel could ensnare without his grasp.

**” Balthazar, why—? “**

Words failed him even now. The blond could only give him a soft, apologetic smile. He had told Castiel he would always have him, he was betraying that bond by existing next to him. He would not go to Heaven to face the Host that would kill him for his treason. He was falling in the most painful of ways. Even Annael could not have felt his plight.

**” There was nothing to be done. When I gave you everything… I meant, everything. “**

The souls tied to his Grace to give Castiel power to fight a war, to help protect him even if Balthazar refused to fight. ( perhaps it was obvious as to why he refused to help in the war, his grace would not have held up long enough to the current point of time ).

A rumble from Castiel’s throat breaks the momentary silence and Balthazar can do nothing more than give yet  _another_  apologetic look. There is nothing that can be done to save him.

He will _die_. Or, rather, become bound to his vessel until its death.

Honestly? He’d rather die.

**” Then why— ? “**

**” Because you asked. “**

The answer tumbles from his mouth before Castiel can finish his sentence. He could attempt to comfort him in Enochian but he finds himself unable to breathe the song from his Grace. He’s weak, the vessel is far stronger than he is anymore.

He wonders what awaits an angel whose Grace has vanished while in a vessel beyond the obvious tethering.

**” You shouldn’t have. “**

Balthazar eyes are silver in tint, blue is hardly a hue in his irises. He feels broken down and ripped to shreds. He wants a drink to numb the pain if for a little bit longer. Maybe a hit of ecstasy to give him a high reminiscent of flying where he wanted.

**” You wanted the weapons. You wanted to save Heaven. Who am I to not allow you what you wish? “**

For someone that had always considered himself a man not bound to anyone, he found himself attached in too many ways to the angel in front of him. He was his own angel until Castiel asked something of him. No matter what it had been, Balthazar had supported it.

**” I do not wish to lose you. “**

Castiel was not an emotional angel, Balthazar has to remind himself. But the break in his vessel’s voice to a noise that sounded near similar to their true voice was something that shattered his heart.

The wall that kept Balthazar from stepping forward and taking Castiel had crumbled.

He knows this is wrong, he should have found out if Cassie even liked things like this but the need that swelled in his chest was nothing short of an ignition.

Humans have comforted one another in embraces since the beginning of their species. Why could he not try what they have been doing for eons? What makes them so different? Castiel had become far more human than the angel would care to admit. Maybe—?

Their vessels are the same height as if it’s meant to be that their lips should meet on equal grounds; even if Balthazar takes control. He’s rough, he takes and takes— this is his selfish need. His showing of how far he’s fallen. He only parts to breathe—

**” Balthazar. “**

There’s a hand on his chest and the falling angels knows what he’s done is wrong. He swallows down the emotion that clogs his throat, the taste of Castiel vessel on his lips ( which tastes like nothing but flesh and he’s sourly disappointed but at the same time it is something he’s come to expect when fantasizing )

**” I’m sorry I— “**

**” What was that for? “**

_What was it for?_  The words echoed in his mind. He isn’t sure what  _it_  was for. For him, mainly. To express something that a normal human would understand?  _Human._  He forgets that Castiel is not like him, he is not losing himself to the ways of man. He’s not drifting away and becoming something lesser than the species he was created to be.

**” Expressing. You’ll always have me. “**

**” You did not have to — “**

**” Cassie? Shush up. “**

His hand covers the one against his chest as eyes slip shut. He breathes, feeling the steady thud of his heart. He tries so desperately to quell the need to take from Castiel.

He’s far too innocent for what Balthazar wants and that only makes him want it more.

**” No. I wish to understand. “**

The deep timbre of Castiel’s voice causes a sharp shiver to climb up his back. It pets him in all the right places and demands an answer. He will not be told no and, at this moment, Balthazar is inclined to give Castiel anything and everything just for him to stay.

**” Have me. “**

The words are far less eloquent in design than his normal vocabulary. Words are such a valuable commodity that neither can grasp in this moment.

**” But I have you. “**

Balthazar laughs. Truly. Psychotically. It’s heart breaking to hear because, yes: Castiel has him but Balthazar does not have Castiel. He wants what he  _knows_  Castiel cannot give him. He wants a physical connection while he can still have one, while he still inhabits a vessel that is not his own.

**     ” Not like that, Castiel… I want physical displays of affection. Of valor. Of all that romantic trash humans have placed so high in their lives. I want… things that make no sense to you or I but I want them so selfishly— it’s a wonder how I have lasted so long as an Angel of the Host. “ **

A beat passes as Balthazar takes deep, even breaths. He’s never really needed to breathe but he enjoys the soothing feeling it brings to his vessel. It’s far better than feeling the death of cells from the lack of oxygen coursing through his body— vessel.

**     ” I could — “ **

**     ” I want to hold hands. I want to be next to you wherever you go. I want to brush shoulders when you pass by because you want me to feel you there. I want… I want… “ **

He sounds so utterly pathetic, a broken tone of a near mad angel.

**     ” Tell me. “ **

**     ” I want [you](http://%20/). “ **

It seems so simple, to want something. Castiel wants to save Heaven so selflessly (  ~~selfishly?~~  ). Balthazar wants Castiel so selfishly (  ~~never selflessly~~  ). But what Balthazar wants and what Castiel wants do not coincide with one another. What Castiel wants is spiritual and what he wants is both carnal and spiritual. He doubts Castiel has ever felt the physical need to be with someone.

**     “ But you have me and I, you. “ **

The way Castiel sets the floor for this conversation leaves Balthazar grasping for straws. He cannot explain what he feels to someone that does not understand it or has not been through it himself. He’s losing his never ending patience and he feels awful for it.

**     “ That’s not what I mean, Cassie. I want you to touch me. I want you to  _want_  to touch me. “ **

The idea is stupid. Angels cannot touch one another. Their bodies are not made of carbon. They are merely entities that exist on a different plane than those of human residence. What he wants is impossible and he knows that.

But now Castiel seems so dead set on understanding it’s a shame hope wells within his chest at the thought of Cassie giving him what he wants.

**     “ But I cannot touch you. I… can hardly feel you anymore, Balthazar. “ **

What Castiel can feel of him is flesh without a soul. A beating heart with no purpose. Cell life and cell death without cause. It is stressful and Balthazar knows it.

He lives in it daily.

**     “ I wish you’d think, love. “ **

Even before losing so much of his Grace— he had learn to experience. Simple rewiring of his vessel to feel what he wished in technicolor. Rain on his flesh— he had become hyper aware of the rolling droplets, the chilled feeling as heat transferred to the water. Sensation had become his largest vice.

**     “ I want you to touch me— my vessel. Well, at the rate of  Grace decay it will be  _me_ rather soon. “ **

He’s become cynical. The blond’s fingers reach, curving around Castiel’s hand to move the roughened hand to his face. He can feel the soft skin between the vessel’s fingers, the rough scratch of pads against his cheek.

With the way Castiel looks at him, he might get what he truly wishes for.


End file.
